


Insomnia is a Bitch

by Descended_from_Hufflepuffs



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019), Supernatural
Genre: Again, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical shenanigans, Gen, Mental Institutions, Monsters, Not even Martin knows what to do with these two, POV Martin Whitly, POV Outsider, Sam and Dean go to jail to solve a ghost problem, ghost hunt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descended_from_Hufflepuffs/pseuds/Descended_from_Hufflepuffs
Summary: Something strange is afoot at Claremont Psychiatric Hospital.And it's only going to get stranger
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	Insomnia is a Bitch

Doctor (in spirit) Martin Whitly had been a resident at Claremont Psychiatric Hospital for just over twenty years. In his time, he’s seen many people come and go from the facility. Guards, psychiatrists, doctors, nurses, janitors, even a few patients. Every time someone new came in, there was always some level of activity buzzing through the hospital.New guards required lockers to be cleared out and schedules to be rearranged. New staff required new key cards and building tours. New patients required new cells and new guard schedules and introductions to be made all around. 

These new things rarely happened, so the excitement was always noticeable when it did. Depending on what it was, the excitement varied in intensity. New guards usually garnered less attention than new patients. Martin was used to this rise and fall of energy at Claremont. Twenty years is just about enough time to see everything in a place that prided itself on schedule and structure. 

But then, something rather unusual happened.

Claremont Psychiatric Hospital was positively buzzing with energy. The guards were whispering about protocols, the psychiatrists were making proposals, the janitorial staff was gossiping, even some of the administration were sweating. It seemed the only ones missing out on the energy were his fellow patients. 

Something very big was happening. And Martin had no idea what it was.

\---------

“You’ll be getting a new roommate, Dr. Whitly.”

“Will I? What’s brought this on, Mr. David?” Martin set down his sketchbook and pen. “Don’t tell me they’ve decided I’ll be a good influence on someone?”

“More like they want to mediate someone else’s influence. We’ve got some new people coming in, a strange pair. A dangerous pair to be more specific. It’s been recommended that we keep them in separate cells so one will move in with you and the other will move in with one of our other inmates.”

“Seems reasonable. Do I get to know about my new roomie before I meet him or is it a surprise?”

Mr. David shrugged. “If I were you, I wouldn’t want to know anything about these guys. But, if you insist, he’s got a more notorious record than you. Honestly, I don’t know why the courts put him here since he’s escaped FBI custody more than once but apparently he’s got some connections. I don’t know who you pissed off to get him in your cell but...I wish you good luck.”

Martin pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair. “So…. I’m just gonna get an ominous warning? No hard facts? Not even a name?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“His name is Sam Winchester.”

\----------

_ “In a shocking move by Federal Judge Marianne Clarkson, notorious serial killer brothers Sam and Dean Winchester are being moved into Claremont Psychiatric Hospital. They were recently caught in a rather low-stakes home invasion incident and they were quickly handed over to the FBI. The trial was a speedy affair, both federal agents and scared citizens anxious to see these murderers behind bars. Why they’re being put into a psychiatric facility is a question that no one seems to have an answer to. This is Ainsley Whitly, signing off.” _

“So, that’s my new roommate?” Martin inspected the picture on his television screen. “He looks like a nice fellow. Too nice to be a serial killer. Of course, that’s what they used to say about me and look where that got us.” He chuckled softly. “Now his brother, Dean, he looks like a serial killer. Handsome in the face but those eyes…. Those are the eyes of a cold-blooded killer. Do you think it’s a family business thing?” He turned to Mr. David. “It is odd they’re being sent here. I mean, I barely escaped the electric chair and if they have a worse record than me….” He shook his head. “Seems a bit of an oversight on the part of the American legal system.”

Mr. David shook his head. “I don’t understand it either. But I don’t get paid to ask those kinds of questions. Regardless of the morality of it, Sam Winchester is coming here and we’ve gotta be ready for him. Which means  _ you _ have to play nice. Based on his record, you don’t want to piss him off.”

“Right, his record. And what exactly is that record?” It was a question Mr. David had been avoiding ever since the topic had been brought up. Martin Whitly didn’t like such uncertainty.

“I’m afraid I am not at liberty to discuss such things with someone who isn’t a member of law enforcement.” Mr. David smirked and wheeled away the television. “Don’t worry about it, Dr. Whitly. From what I’ve heard, he’s a big fan of true crime.”

Well. That was either very good or very bad. Only time would tell.

\---------

“Welcome back everyone,” Dr. Hermann said at the start of their group therapy session. “Toady, I want to talk about handling change. Change is an inevitable part of life that we often have little control over. What we can control, is our reaction to it. Does anyone have anything to share on that subject?”

“I do!” said Martin. “I’m getting a new roommate! To be honest, I’m much more excited about this one than I was last time. I don’t know if it’s the man himself or just the prospect of having someone else to talk to but I’m not averse to it.”

“No shit.” Hector smirked at him. “I’m getting a new cellmate too. Let me guess: you got one Winchester and I got the other?”

“Well, it would certainly seem that way.” Martin was a little ticked about losing his thunder but Hector was such a good friend, always willing to roleplay, he couldn’t be too mad. “I got Sam so I suppose you’ll have Dean. I wonder if that was a deliberate choice or if they just flipped a coin.”

“I don’t care, really. I’m just glad I won’t be alone with my thoughts all day.”

“Yes, I suppose being alone with thoughts like yours would be rather boring.” Martin turned back to Dr. Hermann. “Anyway, I must say I’m not quite sure how I should act with him. From what I’ve been told, he likes true crime. Do you think he’s a fan? I wonder if I should have a little speech ready about how I’m just like any other serial killer?” He chuckled as his voice trailed off.

Hector gave him an odd look. “You mean you aren’t worried about being stuck with a psycho like him?”

“Not really. We’re all a little mad here, aren’t we?” He chuckled again.

Hector shook his head. “Sometime I forget how long you’ve been in here. You’ve never heard of the Winchesters, have you?”

Martin tilted his head curiously. “No, not until recently. Why? Is there something I should know?”

Hector laughed loudly. Martin suspected if his hands weren’t chained, he might be slapping his thigh. “Doc, you have no idea what you’re getting into!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t like where this was going. What did Hector mean? Should he have heard of the Winchesters by now? They supposedly had a worse record than The Surgeon but he had no idea by how much and Mr. David hadn’t been forthcoming with details. He didn’t like missing out on information.

Hector slowly calmed down, shaking his head. “Just trust me, Doc. These boys...they’re a whole new kind of monster, one that even you haven’t seen. Why the hell Claremont is expected to handle them, I have no idea.”

Martin wanted to ask more questions but Dr. Hermann was urging them to return to the topic and he actually liked the guy so it’d be rude to completely derail  _ every _ therapy session this week. He’d just be quiet and ponder his impending situation.

Everyone else had a very peaceful session.

\-----------

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Malcolm paced across the cell, just outside the red line. “None of the victims have anything in common. Old, young, man, woman, athlete, disabled, rich, poor…. There’s no correlation, it’s completely random. 

“And how did the killer drain every drop of blood out of their body? Well, we know how; Edrisa found a point in the neck that could’ve been used for an IV drain of sorts. But there was no injection point found for any kind of sedative or any signs of struggle so how did the killer get them to just lie there and take it? The only other clue we have is bruising on the wrists to suggest they were tied up.” Malcolm looked up at him. “Does that sound like anything you’ve ever heard of?”

Martin shook his head. “No, I can’t say it has. The only thing I can say for sure about your killer is that they’re obviously very skilled. I’d be surprised if this is their first round of kills.”

“You think I should look through cold cases and see if I can find something similar?”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt. Maybe reach out to an old FBI contact and see if they have anything like it in their records too. You’ve already got six bodies; who knows how many more are going to drop?”

Malcolm sighed and rubbed his face. “Don’t remind me. We’re getting a lot of pressure from the higher-ups for answers but it’s like there aren’t any answers to find. It’s just...frustrating.”

“Yes, it does sound that way. I wish I could be more help, my boy, but odd deaths really aren't my strong suit. Call me next time you have a guillotine death or if someone else decides to base their kills on a work of great literature.”

Malcolm huffed out a chuckle and turned to leave. “Yeah, I’ll do that. After I figure out this case. There's gotta be something I’m missing….”

_ Something I’m missing…. _ “Wait!” 

Malcolm paused, turning back with a quizzical expression. “Yes? What is it?”

“Have you ever heard of the Winchesters?”

Malcolm titled his head. “Yeah, almost everyone has by now I think. Notorious serial killers that have been caught by government services multiple times and always manage to escape to kill another day. They have a rather impressive criminal record. I wonder if there’s still an office pool in D.C. for who catches them first….”

Martin huffed. “Yes, I know they have an impressive criminal record, that’s all anyone ever wants to tell me about them. What have they done and why are they coming here?”

Malcolm smirked. “You really don’t know? I thought you’d be more up to date on this sort of thing.”

“Yes, well I’ve been stuck here for the last two decades and I only got TV time in the last five years so I’m a little behind on what’s going on out there.” Martin rolled his eyes. “But one of them is going to be moving in with me and my curiosity has peaked. What can you tell me about them? Especially Sam; I want to know what kind of man my new roomie is.”

Malcolm shrugged. “I can’t tell you much about them, to be honest. The FBI never figured out any real pattern or motive to their movements. They just...popped up and disappeared every now and again. I’m sure they’ll be an interesting psychological study though. Maybe you’ll have fun picking Sam’s brain.”

That is absolutely not the answer he asked for. “Does your sister know anything else? She delivered the report on it.”

“If she does, she hasn’t told me.” Malcolm turned away again. “I have to get back to the precinct. Goodbye, Dr. Whitly.”

\------------

Martin woke with a start. It was late, late enough for the moon to be shining through his lone window. Nothing seemed wrong, so why was he awake?

He slowly sat up, listening carefully. Something woke him up, but what? And why was it so cold? He knew Claremont wasn’t the comfiest place he could be but they were usually on top of things like that.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!!”

_ What the hell? _

He bolted out of bed and sprinted for the door. His windows were mostly covered in frost by the time he got there and the lights in the hall were flickering like mad but he could see just enough to know that the night guard was running like hell down the hallway. He almost made it to the door and then-

He stopped. He stopped and dropped dead. Martin watched as blood pooled around him from a wound he couldn’t see.  _ What the hell? _

As if nothing had happened, the lights went steady again and the temperature went up significantly. But the guard remained dead and in a pool of his own blood. It was unlikely anyone would find him until morning. The poor man must’ve had a condition; how else would he be bleeding out with no one around? But then why did he scream? And what was with the temperature?

Something strange was afoot in Claremont Psychiatric Hospital.

And something told Martin it was only going to get stranger.


End file.
